A New World: Conspiracy (37 page)

“Well, they’ve picked their place well.
Assuming they are in those buildings, there’s no way we can
approach without being seen long before we get there,” Greg
says.

“Sir. Diane said they’re in the cave. At
least the captives and some of the men. I know an entrance to the
cave system that we can get to from that valley to the right. It
enters the caves near the main entrance, but not many know of it,”
Kyle comments.

“Those buildings have a view of that entire
ravine. How can we get to it without being seen? I’m not all that
interested in heading in at night for obvious reasons,” Greg
states.

“From the other side, sir. See that light
patch across the ravine on the next ridge over?” Kyle asks. “That’s
a quarry and, although it’s a steep route down, it’s doable. We
could park the Stryker and head in from there. They won’t be able
to see us that way,” Kyle responds.

“Okay. So how do we get from here to the
quarry without announcing our arrival?’

“We can cross the highway near the crosses
and I know paths that will take us there. It’s a long ways around,
but I can get us there without having to go through any housing
areas. Plus, the ridgelines will keep us out of view. Again, we’d
have to go slow to keep the dust down, but it can be done. We would
be coming up on the other side of the adjacent ridge, which will
block our noise. They won’t hear us.”

“How long will that take?” Greg asks.

He feels his decision is being guided. As
long as there is a possibility of them being able to keep the
danger levels to a minimum and get in undetected, he’ll take the
chance.

“Unfortunately, with the speed we’ll have to
go…most of the day, sir.”

“Point out these paths,” Greg commands.

As Kyle points and communicates the twists
and turns, Greg follows with his binoculars. To all appearances, it
looks to be almost a twenty klick drive only to position themselves
less than a mile across from the caves, but it’s needed to get
there unobserved.

“What can we expect inside?” Greg asks,
making several mental calculations.

“For one, it’s cold...freezing as a matter
of fact…and, of course, dark. A lot of the caves are narrow where
they transition into larger caverns. Only one or two can pass
abreast. The halls and caverns widen tremendously. Sound carries
far. With NVGs, you can see fairly well except where the caves turn
or ascend or descend. Once we get inside, we’ll reach the main
entrance very shortly. Then the path will turn to the right and
proceed to the Canopy Hall. Diane said they were being kept off to
the side near that. I have an idea where that may be…though I don’t
know for sure,” Kyle answers.”

“Any obstacles in the pathways?”

“Not really. There are a few ice-covered
stalactites, but they don’t come down very far.”

Looking across the way at the numerous
vehicles in the parking lot, Greg is worried about being caught
away from the protection of their armor. Figures emerge from the
nearest building and walk to several trucks. From this distance, he
can’t make out their facial features, but they seem relaxed and
jovial. The pickups depart and slowly wind their way down the road.
Hitting the freeway, they turn east. Greg loses sight of them as
they pass by the crosses and vanish behind Hogback Ridge.

Soon others materialize and they too drive
away to the east. No one slows or stops at the crosses for which
he’s thankful. Should they take a closer look, they’d notice that
the ropes from their latest victim were cut.

That’s one of those little mistakes from
begin tired that can cost the mission
, he thinks.
We’ll have
to rectify that before we cross. If they find those cut ropes,
they’ll know someone is around.

With a heavy sigh, Greg makes up his mind.
They’ll go. “Okay, if we’re going to do this, we’d better get
started.”

“Thank you, sir,” Kyle says.

The day passes from morning, to noon, to
early afternoon by the time they make it to the crosses next to
highway. Strands of cut rope lie on the ground next to the cross
Diane was tied to. Kyle disembarks quickly and retrieves the line.
He stays behind while the Stryker traverses the freeway to clean up
their tracks. With a glance left and right, he fades into the
shrubs and rejoins his team.

Being more than a mile above sea level, the
land is arid. This slows their travel over the dirt-covered roads,
but they have a few hours before nightfall. Scattered housing
follows them for a few blocks and then they transition back into
the barren, rough terrain. Their route meanders through the hilly
environment. After an hour of travel, they double back down another
road, each turn of the large wheels carrying them closer to their
destination.

The soldiers are quiet as tension builds
within. Each is lost in their thoughts as they contemplate what is
ahead. They are going into a place where possibly forty armed men
are encamped in order to rescue hostages. They don’t know the
layout or have a plan. Details are severely lacking. That’s not
because the information isn’t being shared, it’s because no one
knows. It’s one of those ‘play it by ear’ missions. Not a one
doubts the operation, but their thoughts are turned towards their
being able to survive it.

They follow the outline of the hills coming
back almost to the highway before intersecting another road that
travels up a ravine one canyon over from the caves. Kyle points out
a dirt road leaving the pavement that travels along a large ridge.
To one side of the path is a steep drop to the bottom of the
ravine. The other ascends sharply, but the road was built to
accommodate heavy machinery, so the Stryker manages – barely.

The large quarry they enter has almost taken
off the entire top of the ridgeline. However, as fortune would have
it, there is a still part of the ridge between them and the caves.
Greg parks the Stryker in the lee of this remaining ridgeline.

With Kyle, he scales the bluff to the side
and looks over the valley separating them from the caves. A quarter
of a mile is all that separates the two ridge tops. The sun is
still above the tops of the mountains to the west, but it is
sinking fast.

“There,” Kyle points to an opening near the
top of the ridgeline near the buildings.

Greg has a difficult time finding the
opening as the far hill lies in shadow due to the westering sun.
With help, he finally makes out the entrance. He was looking for a
cave in the cliff face instead of a sink hole. The cliffs below and
on the other side are almost vertical, but he trusts Kyle’s
knowledge that they can navigate their way. He hasn’t led them
astray so far.

“So we have to descend into that hole? Is
there a path leading down?” Greg asks.

“We’ll need some rope since we’ll have to
rappel in, sir. It’s about fifty feet down and then we have to
scale a wall about thirty feet up,” Kyle explains.

“I wish you would have told me this before
we arrived,” Greg says.

“Would you have come, sir?” Kyle asks.

Greg just stares back. In truth, he doesn’t
know the answer to that question.

“And how do we get back out? How do we get
the hostages out? We can’t very well expect them to climb a rope
fifty feet up. Hell, I don’t know if I can,” Greg states.

“I was thinking we could go out the front.
If it’s during the day, perhaps most of them will be gone,” Kyle
responds.

“That’s not going to work. There are far too
many variables that could leave us vulnerable. I guess we can knot
the rope, climb out, and use a Swiss seat to haul the others up.
The hostages have to be conscious. Understand if we go in, that’s a
hard and fast rule. No exceptions. If they can’t hold onto the
rope, we’ll have to leave them,” Greg states.

“Understood, sir.”

Greg doesn’t like having to lay it down like
that, but he feels like his ass is hanging out in the breeze on
this one. He looks over the area and ponders the situation. He runs
variables through his mind to see if he will be able to counter
them. The advantage is the narrowness of most of the cave system.
The only problem he can foresee is if they encounter a large group
and have to fight their way out. The fifty foot climb is the weak
link in it all. Running scenarios in his head, he reaches a
decision.

“Tomorrow morning, we leave at first light,”
Greg says, backing out of his position.

As the two make their way to the vehicle,
one thought keeps surfacing. It worries Greg and eats at his
conscience. If these people truly chain someone up to the crosses
daily, that means that someone is tied up at this very moment.
Sometime during their crossing the road and traveling across the
back country, vehicles left the establishment and made their way
down, tied someone up, and left. Some poor soul is right now tied
up and terrified of the coming night.

The crosses are three miles away and they
could do the trip on foot in two hours under normal conditions.
These are far from normal conditions. Greg can either leave the
person out there, or risk their presence being known and try to
rescue them. ‘Sacrifice the one for many’ keeps popping up in his
mind but, if he were honest, that doesn’t always hold true. Yes, if
there were a wounded soldier in front of the lines being used as
bait, he would be more inclined to believe that, but even then, he
knows he would try to save that soldier.

Inside the Stryker, he asks Kyle, “If we
take the most direct route to the highway, will we be seen by those
on the adjacent hill?”

“No, sir. The freeway curves at the base of
this ridgeline and the hill will protect us from sight,” Kyle
answers. “Why?”

Greg shares his thoughts. As he reaches the
conclusion, many shocked eyes stare back at him.

“Shit, I should have thought of that,” Kyle
says.

“Okay, gents, here’s what we’re going to do.
We’re going to sneak the vehicle back down and hide near the
highway. When it’s about to fold into nighttime, when we’re sure
that the others must have returned to their lair, we’re going to
make a dash to the crosses. We can’t waste any time. I want to be
back on this road by the time true night hits. We can survive a
couple of night runner packs, but we don’t want to bring an entire
horde upon us. The highway is mostly clear due to their constant
coming and going, so hopefully they won’t see any tracks we might
leave behind,” Greg briefs.

Turning to the driver, Greg says, “Once we
hit that highway, you keep us on the clear sections.”

“Hooah, sir.”

They inch their way back down the dirt road.
The sun’s progress toward the mountains is faster than their slow
creep. They reach a hidden place next to the freeway with just a
touch of sun showing above the tall peaks. The bluish-gray of
twilight seeps over the area, washing color out of the environment.
With a last bright gleaming flare, the sun vanishes behind the
mountains.

“Go…go now!” Greg says.

With an increase in the low whine of its
engine, the Stryker lurches forward and dives toward the road. They
swing left and accelerate. It’s not an Indy car, but the armored
vehicle picks up speed quickly. The lowering of the sun causes
darkness to come quicker than Greg could have imagined. It’s a
klick to the crosses and the team covers it in a minute and a half,
but even then, it’s almost dark by the time they get there.

The Stryker lurches to a halt. The ramp is
thrown down before the vehicle fully stops. It hits the ground with
a clang and sparks fly off the road as the door is dragged a few
feet. Feet pound down the ramp into the darkness, three of the team
setting up a quick perimeter around the vehicle as two run over to
the crosses. Nearby, the first shrieks fill the night air.

Greg looks through the thermals and sees the
hot outline of figures racing their way. The night runners in the
area know where to get a free meal every evening. The images on the
screen grow larger with each passing second as they race down the
roadway.

“Hurry it up out there,” Greg shouts.
“Trouble’s on the way.”

Greg lines up the crosshair on the incoming
figures. He doesn’t want to fire as the noise from the .50 cal will
carry long distances through the thin air. Steps running up the
rear ramp send tremors through the steel. The clang of the hatch
closing and rasp of the handles as they are set are music to his
ears.

“We’re clear, sir,” one of the soldier
yells.

“Get us the fuck out of here,” Greg says to
the driver as the first of the night runners pound on the steel
hull.

“Copy that, sir.”

The vehicle heaves backwards. Once in
motion, the driver floors it and they retreat with the
whitish-yellow figures of night runners giving chase. The forms
eventually grow smaller and seem to give up. The driver hits the
brakes in order to turn them around as he can’t see to the rear of
the vehicle. Keeping them on the road was a matter of looking at
the road in front and hoping there weren’t any corners. A thump
overhead tells of a night runner on top that has fallen from the
sudden stop.

Greg pans the small gun turret around just
in time to see a night runner get to its feet. It fills the screen
and Greg depresses the trigger for a split second. A single round
exits the barrel and catches the night runner in its midriff. The
explosive force of the heavy caliber round rockets the night runner
backward. Greg watches as it is hurtled from the top and drops from
view.

That’s going to cause notice in the
morning
, Greg thinks, regarding the other group finding a dead
night runner in the middle of the road.

Scanning the area, Greg doesn’t see any sign
of the night runner getting up and running away. Nor is there any
sight of the others. It seems all clear around them. The driver
begins his turn.